Necessity is a cruel mother
by Timeandvlove
Summary: Fanfiction of the story Mother of Learning. When Zorian is thrown once more back into the loop right at the beginning he must outwit primordials, gods, and dragons to ensure he survives in an increasingly dangerous world. Powerful Zorian, many secrets revealed.
1. Awakening

This is a fanfiction of Mother of Learning. Soon it shall be over, and the sequel created. The original story is of course the most glorious creation ever in all of mortal history, and you should all read it. This is an attempt to give an answer to a few questions that will never be answered. What is in the deep dungeons? What happened to the gods? Where is QI's phylactery? What heights can Zorian reach with mental enhancements?

I hold no illusion it will hold any candle to the original story. But, it grants me and hopefully you some sense of closure. Plus, a fun story on Zorian advancing even further.

Into the story.

* * *

"I hope it hurts."

Zorian let his head collapse to the ground. Thick clouds of grey smoke filled the air, the aura of the augmented wraiths that flooded the city of Cyoria, their caustic nature burning his lungs, dragging at his soul. He strained his muscles, his power, to push his way out of the ectoplasmic arms that pinned him, failing against their supernatural strength.

They had a plan to stop them. Wraith traps, throughout the city. It hadn't worked.

"You tried your best to stand in our way. In the way of progress, of a better future for Eldemar. It's over. I will free the primordial, bind it again, and rule this land as emperor." Red Robe's words were punctuated by a cry as Zach his long standing ally burnt, the flames of Oganj's draconic magic smashing through his shield and incinerating him.

Zorian's flesh was melting. The caustic gases around them were making his skin melt, pool, every part of his body burning. His mana was almost gone. Despite that, he reached for the dagger of the emperor, a blade that could cut even spirits.

"No." Something slammed down on his arm, bones and flesh cracking under it's strength. More blood slicked his body. He kept the pain blocked, hidden for now. Red Robe's foot, he realized. "I've given you too much freedom. I'm not going to underestimate you again."

Hasted, a blur, moving faster than the eye could track, Quatach-Ichl the black boned lich of incredible skill sent a beam of red light slashing through Xvim's body, every drip of mana drained from the skilled archmage already. Xvim took the blow, collapsing under it. It was surprising he had lasted this long.

Quatach Ichl teleported next to them, and Oganj dropped down, their massive landing shaking their earth, wings curling around their body.

Red Robe grabbed Zorian by the shoulders and lifted him up to head height.

"You've failed, Zorian Kazinski. Everyone powerful on your side is dead, and soon our side of the bargain will be fulfilled. The primordial will be released, and Cyoria will burn as well."

Quatach Ichl looked at Red Robe with unconcealed annoyance. There was never any love lost between those two.

"Just kill him and move on. We have no time for your gloating. You're needed at the ritual center. They've launched another assault, this one much larger. We need to stop them so we can free the primordial."

Zorian had to stop them. He didn't have anything left though. Unless…

He gathered what tiny fragments of mana he had left, and snaked them past the magical sensors of Red Robe. His shaping skills had always been above average, and seven years of focused practice in the time loop had made him even more skilled at manipulating his magic. Quatach Ichl, being a millennia old lich, had the spell mind blank up, thought to be an unbreakable barrier against mind magic. Every spell had a flaw. The spell perfectly shielded the mind, but the body and nerves- and a crack appeared. His mind magic, his empathy, sneaked through the gap.

He barely had enough power left to overwhelm a house cat. He had no hope of battering down the mental defenses of Quatach Ichl, mightiest lich in the world. He could talk though. He forced through the memories he had just received. Red Robe, confessing that he intended to rebind the primordial so that he could rule Eldemar. He forced through some thoughts of his own. Once Red Robe had the continent under his grasp, would he really want a lich around who knew too many of his secrets.

He felt shock pushed back through the mental link, then words. "You can break mind blanks? Of course you can. I know, he's a treacherous snake. What do you want."

Zorian spoke back to him, communicating in a rush of images and feelings. His soul, exploding with the force to kill anyone. With the amount of pain he was in and how little mana he had left he just couldn't focus enough to speak words. He didn't explain that he knew about this technique because Quatach Ichl had tried to use it to kill him in the time loop. He just forced his need for the spell into their link.

He felt surprise, then a laugh from the lich. "We definitely can't have Jornak" Red Robe's true name, though he would always think of him as Red Robe. "Getting away with that. Fine. You get the spell."

He felt the knowledge of the technique filter back through the link. He could sense how it worked. He had better knowledge of his soul than any necromancer or lich he knew of, could feel how to make this work. The soul had a stabilizing frame around it, to ward off foreign magic. If you deliberately collapsed that…

The link collapsed. He didn't have any mana left. But as long as he was alive as long as he wasn't yet dead he still had his soul. He still had something left to give. Red Robe was droning on about something. Something to do with the splinter states.

He grabbed at his soul, fueling his magic with his raw life force.

Red Robe looked at him. "What are you doing." Red Robe had soul sight, he should have remembered. He accelerated his efforts. Quatach did a lipless grin at him and teleported away as Zorian's soul exploded in a blinding mess of agony, sending powerful soul magic out to rip and tear at Red Robe and Oganj.

Zorian died.

Taiven stood before him. He was lying on his bed- without broken arms- and she was stroking his cheek.

"You look like you had a wild dream. After that alchemy accident I thought you were a gonna. But come on. We need to get you to the dance."

What?

For seven years, Zorian had been stuck in a time loop. He had lived and died and lived and died again, exploiting this to gain power and magic. He had found a companion, Zach, who was also looping. They had escaped back into the real world to stop a lich, a witch, and a cultist from releasing a primordial, a creature of unspeakable terrible might from the Age of the Gods from being freed. He had fought and died to stop them.

And now he was back here… in the day before the invasion with one of his classmates.

He quickly tried to stealthily cast some spells to see what was up, but found he couldn't quite recall them. He tried to activate his empathy, his mind magic, but found he couldn't. He couldn't activate his soul sight. He didn't have any of the powers that he had possessed from the loops.

Taiven tugged him up, leaning on his arm.

"Come on, lets dance. Ask out again, nicely this time, and you might get lucky." Taiven grinned at him and planted a warm kiss on his cheek.

"You're not real!" He said.

She smiled at him, and pulled his hands towards her chest.

"I'm all real." They… felt real.

This couldn't be real. He had one last thing to do. He moved his awareness through his soul, subtly trying to feel if a geas or some strange mind magic was on him. He felt it. Divine magic. To escape the loop he had to learn to sense divine magic, and this magic was not subtle. He drew on his mana reserves, and flexed his soul.

The strands of divine magic twisted away from him, unbreakable, but no longer connected to the same parts of his soul.

The room flashed away. He was in a dark, black void. In front of him was a figure as vast as a mountain. It had a body shaped like a human, pale and with too many arms. He could see and feel countless eyes watching him blinking and staring from a skin darker than the sky. Sometimes an eye would vanish on the body soon to be replaced with a new one grown from the pale flesh.

High above him was a head made of stained gold, the gold pulsating and glowing with a million skulls that forced their way out of the molten metal, looking at him, reaching with arms. Six long arms jutted out from her body long as the coastlines dripping red blood from deep holes that flowed down into the void, long claws flexing and turning at impossible angles.

His hands were on a long metal key. Her chest was made of a host of them, twisting and turning as though into a lock, the metal forming and flowing back and forth.

His mind magic freed, he felt a mind incomprehensibly large. A mind that had seen worlds burn, seen countless terrors and pleasures and wonders. His head started to burn-

He was back in his room with Taiven. She was pouting.

"You mortals should learn to respect your deities. Why wouldn't you let me have your fun?"

She leapt onto him and pushed him down onto the bed. It felt surprisingly comfortable after hours of trekking through burning wraith mist.

"I did almost have you convinced it was a dream, didn't I?"

Zorian nodded quickly, not wanting a second try. Was this the primordial? A god?

"Yes, yes, it was very convincing."

She smiled, and he got the feeling that she genuinely believed him.

"Thank you." She looked down at him, on top of him, his hands still on her chest.

"I've done talks like this in worse positions. I am the goddess-"

He wrenched his hands away, and rolled out from under her, his combat trained instincts letting him stand up. The goddess flopped on the bed, and looked at him.

She laughed. "I don't mind your hands on my keys, if that's what you're worried about. I am Lopova, goddess of thieves. I am here to congratulate you." She clapped and cheered. "Go Zorian! You beat the invasion, stopped the ritual- your cleric friend managed to drive off the lich- and just had to die to do it. I restored all your damaged soul, don't worry. Well done you! You win life. I've personally talked to my head angel- a rare honor- and you are getting the full service treatment. All the books you want, access to my private library and the usual songs in your name, as much alcohol and drugs as you want, all the men or women you need- you name it, you got it. Your sister and brother are still alive and my angels will be personally keeping an eye on them along with your buddies." He could feel she was speaking absolute truth.

Zorian stared at her shocked.

She spoke, quickly filling the silence. "Was it the prank? You must tolerate us gods, it gets awfully boring here, we have to find ways to entertain ourselves. How often does a god get to say they convinced an archmage that their life was just a dream and they're just a precocious teenager?" She poked his arm twice, hard enough to sting.

"Not that often, so say I."

Zorian spoke, carefully. This was one of the weirdest situations he had been in.

"Thank you, Lopova. You honor me and my family. I thought you were gone" The world felt the gods had been gone for centuries. "But I am very grateful that you are still around."

She laughed, span, and got up to spin him around. He briefly tried to pull back, but felt a weight on him, greater than a mountain, holding him in place for her to spin him.

"So formal. Don't worry, I'm used to you mortals being uppity. Anyway, you have your reward. If you want something else ask it and any boon will be granted. Your work is over. Through that door is nothing but safety and happiness." He could feel she was being completely truthful. She gestured, and a new door appeared, of golden light, in the wall of his Cyorian apartment. The goddess flicked her hand at the door.

"Off you go, you have a fun afterlife ahead of you. And well done again. You the man, you the hero!" In Taiven's body, she cheered again for him, jumping and pumping her fists.

He was about to step away, when he noticed something. It was subtle, but… why did he keep feeling she was speaking the truth. His soul sight let him see her soul, his mind magic let her see her mind. But they were both false, versions of Taiven's. He'd seen her real soul and it was terrifying. He'd felt her mind and it was crushing. That meant that she… what had she said?

He smiled at her, careful not to display the slightest sign of what he was planning in his soul or mind magic. He was an archmage and he was pretty sure she didn't have any divine tendrils in his soul at the moment reading him.

He reached out his arm to Lopova, who eagerly grabbed his arm and pulled him close.

She looked at him lustily. "You know, the offer to check how real I am still stands."

Lopova, he remembered from his long lectures with Alanic when he had been learning his soul magic was a goddess of thieves. She was said to adore pranks, practical jokes, and pleasures with men and women, often in weird forms and shapes. She was very vain about her appearance and very prideful and loved physical humour. He didn't really want to touch a body snatcher using a fake version of his friend's body to allure him so he would show her. There were ways to get revenge on a goddess.

He looked back at her, with a confident smile. "Somewhere more real. Come with me." He winked at her, and led Lopova, her very real feeling brown hair spread across his shoulder towards the doorway. She spoke soft nothings into his ear, and ran her hand over his shoulder with a soft, electric touch.

Just before he reached it, as she started to stroke his chest, he moved his leg back and shoved the goddess through the doorway. As she passed the threshold from somewhere a metal bucket of ice water fell drenching her and soaking her clothes. Displaying no coordination or balance unlike the combat mage the real Taiven was, Lopova tripped over her own feet and fell unceremoniously to the ground, her face hitting the black void beyond with a satisfying thud.

After she fell rainbow lights flashed from past the door. After quickly casting a spell to lessen unpleasant lights and sounds (one Taiven had taught him) he stepped past.

There were massive glowing multicoloured lights shaping letters that said. "The game is not over, you fool" and a continual pounding music that stung his ears even past the spell, saying "Game on! Game on!"

He spoke out, to the room in general. "Safety and happiness. I personally feel very safe and happy so thank you for your honesty."

Lopova (he had decided that she wasn't worthy of the title goddess) rolled over onto her front, and looked at him with a glare that could crack continents. He felt a pressure on his mental shields, and felt them begin to buckle.

Then it vanished and she smiled.

"Best prank ever. And you have a bloody strong mental shield as well, I was hoping to scare you." She reached a hand out to Zorian. Zorian reached forward, and tugged her up. Lopova waved her hand and the water vanished, along with the lights and the sound.

"How did you know?" She asked, curious. Zorian thought of telling her about the falseness of the Taiven shell, or of the feeling of truth, but decided to go with another answer.

"Because gods are assholes. You've been gone for centuries. You wouldn't come back just to reward me. You want something from me. The game is not over.

Lopova's eyes glinted with surprise, and she nodded.

"We do need you once more as Jornak isn't dead and the primordial's contract allowed it to yank his soul away- easier with how close it was to the surface- and take it elsewhere and the primordials are children of the dragon below and have a sympathetic link to her as she is the heart of your world and is currently running a maintenance cycle replaying recent events so Jornak will be inserted back into the time loop just after the loop where you gained sentience as that loop was fragile and will return to destroy the world with an army of primordials unless you stop him so I am going to send you back as well and if that's all off you-" She said, all in one breath.

He held his hand up.

"Wait. Back to the start of the loops?"

She nodded.

"Try to keep up. There's a second set of loops about to happen and you and Jornak will be inserted into it." She paused, and looked thoughtful. "Of course, there's limits to what we can send. You're not meant to send souls into maintenance cycles. I can probably send two soul fragments- I was thinking your memories and your empathy- so you can quickly go defeat him, and return back to us once more. The earlier offers stand, by the way. Completely honest- you are gonna have a great afterlife, and your family and friends will be safe whatever you do." She said.

Most people would need a while to process all this. A long while. He did too, but there was a way to speed things up. He was already cutting off emotions like shock, blocking your distractions as he focused on what to do. He didn't have time to gape and stare. He could tell this goddess was eager to finish her games with him and send him on.

"We need to do this right. We need to do this perfectly, so we can stop the primordial release. I am going to summon several simalcrums so we can focus on it together. Is that ok?"

She shrugged. "More the merrier, I say. I'm never one to say no to some extra partners. She leered at him. He tossed a ball of light at her face. She casually tossed it away with her hand.

"You just wait, Zorian. There's a reason why we gods love simulacrum. I'll get you into it too!"

Zorian was sure that a number of priests would be fascinated to hear the goddess' imaginative and lurid ideas, but after a number of long lectures on the matter from Alanic, he was used to it. There's only so many times you can listen to a sermon on the uses of ectoplasm and still care.

Mentally blocking out her words, he summoned five simulacrums and began forming his fused hive mind. With aid from divine creatures, the Aranea, the rats of Cyoria and many magical secrets he had raises his mental arts to a new level, forming a hive mind that could do more than any one mind. He began to focus on the problem.

"… And that's why a more springy ectoplasm works better. A little wrestling always helps for a warm up and-" He interrupted her, wanting to talk about anything else.

"Why did the gods leave?" She paused, and looked at him.

"New horizons. We wanted to colonize new places and make new lands, and there wasn't enough divine mana to go around. We can't create it, at any speed you know?"

Zorian blinked. "You can't?" She shook her head. "We can manipulate it expertly, but we are not dragons. There's a limited amount of divine power we can tap here. A few primordials, some of the mightier creatures of the deep. Each one is a font of divine power, but we wanted more. More rare magics, sources of power. We agreed to forge out into the dark and find new sources, rather than wage a war over what was left."

Zorian remembered that there were several theories about why the gods had left. One popular one, that his asshole pastor had spoken of was that people were sinful, so the gods grew disgusted with this tainted world. Only by living up to their ideals and being pious men and women can we entice them to talk to us again (and hand out free stuff).

A second one that Alanic had favored was that the gods were beset by an outside enemy or problem, and had to dedicate their full attention to dealing with this. The emergency is still going on, and they trust their faithful to behave themselves and not set everything on fire in their absence, metaphorically speaking. The priesthood is here to make sure their trust isn't misplaced.

A third one, more common among the various necromancers he had killed was that the gods have decided we are now mature enough to live our lives without them holding our hands all the time. Them withdrawing their support so suddenly is really just a final step in their creation of us - the ultimate show of trust. The gods are still there, but we need to learn how to talk to them again, this time without them doing all the work.

They were short of mana had not been a theory.

"Can't you create it? I heard-"

She cut him off.

"Nope. Did your priests tell you the tale of how we gods came to be?"

Zorian began to recite from the book of Dosadan.

"And when the primordial sea parted, so forth were we."

She laughed. "Dragons, that dude was a bore. It's a pity what happened to him. No. In the distant past we were all humans, or lizards, or other things. The primordials ruled the world, cruelly doing as they willed and torturing and ripping apart people at will. A great coalition of the mightiest mages of all time and the strongest spirits came together and we slew one of the primordials. It was a long and terrible fight, and countless of us died, but with the aid of gifts we had stolen from them, we killed one. We took it's corpse, made potions of it, and consumed them to bind their magics to our souls. Did none of those stories survive till the present day.

They had survived. He had seen stories like that among the Cult of the Dragon Below, the group seeking to free the primordial and bind it to them. If they were right, that made a lot more sense why they felt they might succeed. They were still insane assholes.

This also explained why the Gods were such assholes. Binding the soul of a primordial to your soul would drive anyone a bit crazy.

She smiled at him. "Now you're getting it. We're badass heroes. Anyway, you can praise us later. Some of us can create divine mana. But it's hella hard. It's something complex to do with strings and vibrational modes and platonic shapes. I can't do it. But all of us can steal magic from the primordials, but they don't have so much, and they are starting to fray their cages and make it harder to seize magic. We were hoping for more primordials. Outside."

He glanced at her.

"Did it work?"

She shook her head. "It's not going well out there. Scary place."

As they had been talking his many minds had been planning out how to do it. She had given him constraints. Two fragments of his soul. His memories and his empathy, she had suggested. Those were strong. Maybe he could get more from her though.

"I could get a lot more done if you gave me the locations of useful artifacts, gave me some sort of blessing, perhaps offered to vouch for me with your church. You are a wise and intelligent goddess, I am sure you know much of use to us humans." Yes, let us loot your caches while you go mess about beyond the universe.

She shook her head and shaked her finger dismissively.

"Ahh ahh ahh. No giving you divine magic help on the core plane. Remember, divine magic is for us, not for you. I can probably explain away me stopping a primordial invasion. I can't explain away you looting all our best stuff."

"Do you want help?"

She looked straight at him, and nodded. "In bed?" She said hopefully.

He narrowed his eyes at her for a moment, and then shook his head.

"Outside. I was pretty close to doing it last time in the loop. If you can ascend, we might be able to as well. Repair the cages, bring you some reinforcements. Or we could go for a romp, but that's a lot more temporary than an eternity together.

She looked at him.

"Are you bullshitting me? You can't ascend. You can't manipulate divine magic. Your mana doesn't have any way to control it."

He made his soul ripple.

"We do."

She looked at him, and burst out laughing.

"Well I never. Your soul has divine mana in it, you know? Just a tiny amount, but enough to make it unbreakable. I can't do that. You humans have… shaping? That's what you call it. It's pretty impressive. We never really had such a great need for it. We could simply replicate a mage make them spend sixty years in a time dilated box practicing that spell, and then copy paste that soul skill into them." Well that was a really creepy and horrible thing to do to someone. "We had a lot more spells to master, but mastering them was never that hard. But shaping to control divine magic. What a crazy idea."

She shook her head. "Pretty insane. Maybe. Ok." She clicked her fingers a few times. "What do you want from me for it? Isn't saving the world enough? Fine. Ask any three questions, I'll answer. You can repay me when you come to me. Don't care about phrasing them carefully, I'm a good girl."

He spoke clearly, and slowly. "Where is Quatach-Ichl's phylactery, where are there accessible divine artifacts to help me, and who did your beautiful golden mask, it looks lovely."

She smiled at him, and brushed her hand against your cheek. "For that, I'll give you one extra. You know we're actually forbidden from helping mortals, and especially forbidden from doing this, because we're supposed to keep all the divine mana for the gods. You're lucky you're cute. I don't know where his phylactery is, but his partner probably does, seek out the Red Thorn in his homeland."

"The goddess of thieves doesn't know where to steal something" He asked her.

She waved her fingers. "I could find out, but I'm not allowed to do full scans. Anyway, go to the head church, ask for the top priest of my church, and tell him that Lopova has sent you, open the tombs. Ask for the divine compensator, it will get you some of my special stuff. There's a lot of our stuff on the southern continent, explore there. I can't tell you where, there are other eyes on you, don't ask. And my mask was personally created from the soul of a true dragon, thank you for asking. So, made your plans, ready to go?" She said, glancing at him.

"A few more questions. Do you have any idea what Red Robe will be doing once he gets into the 'maintenance cycle' and whether he will have his full powers? And rather than my empathy, can you send me with my shaping abilities?"


	2. Deja vu

So, in this chapter one of my most desired things happens- we get to see Xvim finally get his just deserts, along with him use the special technique that Alanic said would make him quickly help him but which he never needed because he just did the whole temporary marker thing.

We never got a perfect Xvim teasing. Now, it finally arrives.

Much stolen from the originals, and from the online world building explanation of mana. All rights remain in nobody103's hands, enjoy.

* * *

Zorian's eyes abruptly shot open as a sharp pain erupted from his stomach. His whole body convulsed, buckling against the object that fell on him, and suddenly he was wide awake, not a trace of drowsiness in his mind.

"Good morning, brother!" an annoyingly cheerful voice sounded right on top of him. "Morning, morning, _MORNING_!"

He glared at her, and focused. Narrow lines of mana flowed from his hands, forming hexagonal strings around Kirelle. They were invisible to the naked eye, but he could feel his magic as he shaped it, as he willed his intent into it. In a moment he had the effect ready, and willed his intent into it.

He levitated his sister Kirielle up into the air. She tried to grab onto him, but he pushed her aside and up she went. His shaping skills were still working fine. Perhaps several years ago she could have escaped, back when he was just relying on the teaching of Xvim but he had seen through the eyes of dozens of monsters, practised with countless archmages and experts. He was very, very good at shaping now.

After a few moments of trying to escape she went limp and glared at him.

"That's not fair," she complained, looking down on him from her vantage point above him. "Since when can you even do that?"

Zorian ignored the question, focusing on his magic. He… could feel his empathy. He couldn't turn it off, or sense people properly. He couldn't touch people. It felt alien to not be able to control this sense, that he had on for years. He pushed his mana out, trying to recall that sensation of feeling other minds. He could remember a lot of spells, but not how to do them. He couldn't even remember the chants. Lopova had explained it to him. Something about the dragon below not wanting interlopers, divine checking mechanisms that would scrub spells from the mind. Jornak, his foe, didn't face the same issues. The primordials knew the access codes to bypass such checks. Lazy gods, not finding a way past that.

He idly started to set his sister to spinning around. She endured it in mute silence initially, then gave up and started telling him that this was very mean.

He had a bit over an hour. That's what Lopova had told him. There was a ritual of powerful soul magic that could allow a person to steal the divine mark that Zach had, which gave him access to the controls of the loop. With few spells, the tiny mana reserves of his preloop soul and his shaping skills he had to stop Jornak, an experienced and powerful mage with decades of experience, enhancements from a primordial from becoming the controller of this faux loop.

He felt a sudden burst of dread. He instantly went to his mental enhancements, seeking to block off that feeling, but found them not there.

He dropped Kirielle down. She immediately recovered, bombarding him with questions but he just couldn't focus. He walked dazed around his room. Everything was where it was meant to be. He organized his room in a distinctive way because his nosy mother had a habit of snooping. This felt real. But was it? Lopova had shown she could make things from his memory. Was any of this real? What was he doing? Where was he.

"Zorian! Zorian." Said Kirelle, shaking his arm. "What's wrong?" She looked worried. He looked from side to side. "Nightmare." He gasped out, putting his hand on the wall.

Zorian breathed deep, trying to ignore the pain in his chest. What had he gotten himself into?

Zorian was trying to focus on what Ilsa was saying, but he just couldn't pull himself together. He guessed he shouldn't be surprised that the gods were still around and watching, or that their reputation as perverts was as true as the legends, or that he wasn't good enough to defeat Jornak.

He was gaining a healthy respect for the ability of the universe to surprise him. He'd thought he basically understood how things worked pretty well. There were gods, who were strong, there were primordials, who were insane monsters that wanted to wreck things, there was an invasion by a lich he had to stop. How had he gotten to this point? He had escaped the time loop. He was out. Now he was back in. And he was facing someone much stronger than him, with powerful allies and friends, and he had a bit over an hour to save Zach or he would be trapped in a loop with a necromancer who had full control over it…

He snapped back into the real world when he realized Ilsa had stopped talking and was looking at him intently. He gave her a questioning look.

"Are you quite alright?" she asked, and Zorian noticed her glancing at his hands. Why would she-

Oh.

His hands were shaking. He was probably quite pale too, if the skin on his hands was of any indication. He rubbed his hands together a few times and then balled them up into fists to reassert control over them.

This felt familiar. A flash of memory came to him, from years ago. He had told Zenomir about the invasion, and then had been stabbed to death. It had been one of his more painful deaths, before he got used to dying horribly again and again.

He remembered what he was doing. He had planned this out. He had been spiralling, unused to this emotional turmoil without his mind magic to soften it, but he had to focus. He had a plan.

As though it was waiting for him to calm down, he felt his mind magic, empathy suddenly awaken. He felt Ilsa's mind blossom to him, like a golden sun, and he felt a bit better.

"Not quite," Zorian admitted. "But I will be. You don't have to worry about it."

She stared at him for a second longer and then nodded.

"Very well," she said. "Do you want me to teleport you to the Academy? I can't imagine riding the train in the state you're in is going to be very pleasant for you."

All as planned. It felt calming, falling into a familiar pattern. Following a routine as he had done so many times in a loop. It helped distract him. He had to stop Jornak. He didn't have the best tools. He was an idiot for agreeing to come back here like that. But, he was going to get the job done.

"I don't want to inconvenience you…" he repeated

"Don't worry, I was going there anyway," she said. "It's the least I could do for getting to you so late and taking the choice of your mentor away from you."

It had taken him a while, but he had warmed to Xvim. Xvim had become a close friend over the years. Xvim was key to his plan as well. He faked a look of annoyance, and she gave him a sympathetic smile.

Ready?" she asked, after they had gotten outside.

He nodded.

"Don't worry, the rumors about the dangers of teleporting are mostly exaggerated," Ilsa said. "You can't get stuck inside solid objects – the spell doesn't work that way – and if something goes wrong I'll immediately know it and collapse the spell before dimensional ripples tear us apart."

He had been- still was- a mage of the highest calibre. He turned on finely honed magical senses, extending invisible tendrils of magic around them, trying to taste the spell. He felt the dimensional ripples and how the spell was structured.

Unstructured magic works because souls can figure out how to perform feats of magic on their own. If given aid in directing mana outside the body and presented with a clear picture of the desired goal, the soul will slowly chip away at the problem in question, getting closer and closer to a solution with each attempt. Since this is a very blind and crude process, however, it can take quite a while before it converges on a viable solution. If the desired magical effect is complex or mana intensive, the training could take years, decades, or even so long that no person would live to see the results within their natural lifetime.

Dimensional magic was one of those magic types that would take decades to master through unstructured magic. He did not have decades, so he needed structured magic.

With no limiters in place, the soul loses itself in the vast space of different possibilities and takes an impractically long time to reach a viable solution for problems presented to it. What if there was a way for mages to direct the flow of mana in a more precise, forceful manner? What if one could tell the soul, not just _what_ to do, but explain to it exactly how it should go about doing it?

That was structured magic, which she was casting now.

In order to cast a structured spell, the caster must communicate the structure of the spell in question to their soul. This is usually done by reciting a chant and performing a series of hand gestures. Specific words and gestures invoke specific spell elements, essentially explaining to the soul of the caster how it should go about constructing the spell boundary.

A spell boundary defines how the mana should be used to produce an effect but that doesn't mean that performing the spell will result in a successful magical effect the first time its cast, to Zorian's great regret. The spell boundary simply narrows down the possibility space to something small enough that the soul can figure it out relatively quickly.

Still, even if the learning process is not instant, it is blazingly fast when compared to alternatives. Spells that would take decades of training if done through unstructured magic can be learned in a week, and things that would require a week of tireless repetition can be mastered in five minutes of practice.

Teleportation was a complex kind of magic that would take a week, or weeks to master. He didn't have a week.

He could almost feel her mana writhing and turning around him. At the center he could see something. A snake chewing it's tail- he recognized that. He could see other proxies, see magic in twisting tubes and snakes and coils breaking the universe and rending space and time.

Suddenly they were both standing in a well lit circular room, a large magical circle carved into the marble floor they stood on. The teleport redirection room.

He used a pulse of unstructured magic on his throat, pressing at the back.

"I feel sick. Thanks Ilsa. I'll be in the toilet!"

He ran out, holding his stomach. After a few twists and turns he had escaped, and he began to prepare to teleport to Alanic. He had forged a letter of recommendation, now he just needed to reach the man. From what the goddess had told him, Alanic would be one of the first targets of the ritual that Jornak was doing to steal the time travel marker from Zach. He expected danger, and soon. He had to get there.

The teleportation spell was a complicated one. It had taken him months to master it initially, and even a skilled mage would take a week at least. He was no skilled mage. He had managed to transport himself through a primordial's insides from an artificial pocket dimension to the real world. He had killed and made potions of many magical creatures with unique skill with dimensionality. He could do this.

He remembered long ago, Ilsa had warned him not to do this in warded places, like Cyoria, where he was. This was probably a very bad idea. He started to cast teleport.

Five minutes later, he felt he had it. He went through the chants, the gestures, and tried to stabilize it. He felt the world ripple, and shake, as the dimensional ripples. He held his hand up to his face, and saw his hand swell up and shrink as the universe twisted. He forced his power out, trying to stabilize the spell, mana flooding the area around him. He gripped the universe, and forced it to stabilize, cleaned up incorrect boundaries, and made it work.

He felt the magics of the city rush for him, sensing some part of his divine magic. Ilsa might still be there, in the teleportation redirection room. That would be a real shock to her. He twisted the magic, darting one way then the other, the structured spell no match for his flexibility.

Then he teleported.

He emerged in a field near Alanic's temple. Ten mercenaries (he recognized their outfit) with rifles and grenades were firing at the temple, while four mages, one of them in a red robe (not Jornak, he could tell), were acting as support, sending massive balls of artillery magic at the temple to collapse the warding scheme. Alanic was sending back pulses of fire and whips and balls, but the group had some specialized anti fire spells designed to counter the priest. Zorian was perhaps thirty feet away from them.

It seemed to be working. With a glance, he could tell that the mana of the temple was almost depleted. They had less soldiers than before, likely because this attack had been organized so quickly but more mages. No doubt Jornak had enlisted some mages from his little cult to help him gather the ritual sacrifices before whatever interruptions (like him) arrived.

He reached out with his mind magic, picking one of the weakest of the soldiers, and lashed out with a pulse of empathy. It was crude, incredibly crude. Something a child Aranea could surpass. It was also perfectly efficient, and done with all the shaping control he had. One of the soldiers collapsed. This was something else he needed to do. He needed to regain his skill with mind magic. The easiest way to do that was with human experimentation.

They didn't seem to realize what was happening yet, distracted by the near success, so he levitated the collapsed man's gun, pointed it at one of the three mages without a red robe, and fired. They felt so safe behind their shields. As the man's skull exploded, he felt a grim sense of satisfaction.

The red robed cultist quickly sent a dispelling wave at the gun, collapsing his unstructured levitation and spoke. "They told me someone might interrupt us. Die, and die alone!" shouted the man.

Very overly dramatic, felt Zorian. The man pointed his finger, and a red lightning bolt shot out straight at Zorian, intending to slay him.

He grabbed the bolt of lightning, and held it, stabilizing it, forcing the man to keep it up. He could feel a sense of surprise from behind the robe, and the man tried to shake the bolt free. He failed. Xvim had taught him this trick, and had managed to use it on Quatach-Ichl. No normal mage was going to break free. He lashed out at another weak willed soldier and knocked him out with a pulse of mind magic. That one had gone better.

"Your death comes soon! You can't- Why won't this kill you!" Said the Red Robed mage.

He jerked the bolt, exploding another one of the mercenaries as the lightning fried him from the inside out as he knocked out another mercenary with a pulse of mind magic. Deciding that he was the larger threat, one of the mages turned towards him along with several of the soldiers, firing at his cover while the wardbreaker kept focusing on the temple wards. For their troubles, he knocked out another soldier with a pulse of mind magic. Four down.

A trio of flaming missiles came out, incinerating the three mercenaries that were firing at him. He took the chance.

Zorian exploded the whip at the source, sending a flood of heat and wind and sound out around the soldiers. They were distracted for a moment, and he used that to pick up a gun and fire and kill one more mercenary

The mage fired a beam of electricity at him. He knocked it aside with his hand, and, sensing a weakness in the man's aegis, poked a line of mana through and shoved him into red robe. The lesser red robe's wards flared, incinerating his companion mage.

"I will have my revenge!" The lesser red shouted, summoning up some new spell- one involving soul magic. He didn't get to finish it.

A short, bald, muscular man literally dropped out of the sky in front of them, landing next to red robe. Alanic Zork. He was surrounded by dozens of flaming suns, which quickly killed the remaining two mercenaries and harassed the ward breaking mage. He himself hit red robe in the chest, sending a pulse magic into him while he was distracted dealing with little old Zorian.

And that was that.

Zorian got up, and waved, picking up a rifle from a dropped soldier. "Hey there. I'm out of mana, but-." He wasn't quite, but he was pretty low. He had one magic missile's worth of mana out of eight. He was using it to root through a collapsed man's mind. Not very successfully, but it was a start. "I am from the The Mesalian Order." That was the order Alanic was a part of, that he would accept. He tossed Alanic the forged letter of recommendation that they had forged together in the time loop.

"We need to go save Lukav, now. They're attacking soul mages."

Alanic was never one to dilly dally when needed. He had been glancing at the letter, but at his words, looked angry.

Alanic reached for him, and teleported them.

There was a smaller group attacking Alanic. He had transformed into a giant lizard monster as he did before, but these mages had a special ward coded specially to stop such efforts.

They didn't have a special ward to stop fire magic.

There was a reason he had not chosen empathy magic for his one stored magic. Maybe he could control enough people, but the really skilled mages were pretty good at mind defence. Alanic, say, would be pretty hard to control, and he didn't have much mana to control people with. Shaping left him with alteration skills to make forged letters, master a few key spells, and fight. It meant after this fight (which Jornak would probably survive) he could ramp up faster.

And it meant he could recruit Xvim and Alanic. He couldn't tell them the truth. They took a few days to accept it, verifying that they were not trapped in some spell. That had always been the way it was with all his mentors. If he told them the truth then it took ages to get their help. He needed help now.

"You have an angelic contract?" Asked Alanic, sceptical.

Zorian nodded, carefully keeping his soul from revealing his lie with his shaping skills. The gods really had been fools to overlook shaping, it was so useful.

"Yes, I sense you have soul sight, do you not? I was approached by a figure in a dream. The angel was shaped like a black, floating, cross-shaped tree with four sets of branches and no roots. Or maybe it would be more accurate to imagine four trees that had their lower half cut off and were then glued together through their trunk into a cross-shaped pattern. The branches were leafless, and burning orange eyes grew on them instead. The eyes were animated, constantly moving and taking in everything around the angel. Translucent orange flames enveloped the branches, coiling around them like a multitude of snakes and releasing crackling sounds reminiscent of real branches burning in flames.

Floating behind the tree of eyes was a gently spinning ring of silvery metal. The ring was densely covered in tiny golden characters that Zorian didn't recognize, and which seemed entirely alien to his eyes, unlike anything he had ever seen. Behind it, several ghostly ribbons of multicolored light extended in all directions from the angel, straining Zorian's eyes and blurring the angel's form. If one squinted and tilted their head the right way, they kind of looked like six pairs of wings."

Alanic clearly recognized the description of the angel that Zorian had seen when they had summoned them, and nodded.

"Go on."

Zorian continued on. "He told me that Eldemar was in grave danger, and I was needed. I asked why me, and he mentioned something about constraints and boundaries and not wanting someone who would interfere with mortal authorities. In return for greatly enhanced magical skill and knowledge, I would fight for Eldemar to stop the threat- a threat that would led to the entirety of Cyoria being soul trapped, their souls used for necromancy, along with the eventual destruction of much of the world by release of a primordial. I like the world, so I accepted the contract. They linked me up with some members of your order, who have been training and preparing me, as the letter notes."

The actual members were too far away to contact at the moment, as he and Alanic had planned before the time loop.

"Another was granted great mana reserves, for both skill and power are needed to stop this threat, Zach. A terrible necromancer intends to steal that contract for himself with a foul ritual, sacrificing several individuals with soul sight to tear it apart. We don't have long. We need to act now."

Alanic nodded slowly, then faster.

"What do you need me to do?"

Zorian spoke. "There's a marker on my soul, linked to is. I need you to cast a soul tracking spell, to find out where he is. We don't have time for gathering the authorities, but any forces you can gather quickly would help a lot. We have fifty minutes to plan a raid."

Alanic looked at him closely. He could feel the touch of his soul sight on his soul.

"This is a lot to take on. Do you speak complete truth?"

Zorian waved his hands. "Cast the spell. Find him. The soul ritual, from what I have heard, is very distinctly necromantic. You should be able to tell." He steeled his soul. "And yes, I am." No he was not.

Alanic looked at him for several moments longer, and nodded.

It took a little time, but he cast the ritual. Zach was still at the mansion! Jornak hadn't even moved him. Lazy.

"I can teleport us there, to the outskirts." Zorian said. His mana had regenerated enough for that. "I've been there before."

Alanic put his hand on his shoulder, and Zorian teleported. This time, he managed to keep the dimensional ripples to a minimum.

Alanic spoke after they emerged.

"That was a surprisingly rough teleport."

Zorian shrugged. "Super shaping skills, minimal spell knowledge."

Alanic's eyes snapped to the mansion.

Zorian could feel it as well. The tug, the yanking on his soul. Some mighty spell was going down in there.

Alanic spoke. "I'm in." His voice filled with anger.

He raided some of the invader's caches, getting himself some money and weapons. He began altering the rifle, etching tracks of crystallized mana on it to help make it hit a lot harder. He prepared a spell rod for Taiven, and prepared to enact his plan to save Zach.

* * *

"You need me?" Taiven asked.

"I'll pay you, don't worry. And you'll get a lot of prestige from this. Your name will be spoken of far and wide. Taiven, the girl that saved Zach, noble lord." He knew she wanted to be famous, and he was tugging on that need.

Taiven leaned forward. "This seems like a lot for you, Roach."

Zorian shrugged. "I've been trained by the church's best. You can ask Alanic at the raid. Anyway, I need muscle, and I need you for a special job." He tossed her the spell rod. She caught it.

"Are you in?"

* * *

Then he went for the hardest part of his plan.

"So you're saying you have perfect shaping skills, and want to bet me that your skills are better than mine so I come along with some wild outing of yours immediately?"

Zorian nodded.

"Exactly as so, sir."

Xvim waved his hands forward, clearly frustrated.

"The arrogance of youth. You think simply because you can make a light glow you're a master."

Zorian shook his head. "I'm perfect, sir. Better than you in some ways at pure shaping. You don't believe me? If I prove myself will you come?"

Xvim scoffed. "If you are better than me at shaping, I will eat my hat. Yes, yes, I'll help you. Show me your basic three."

Zorian quickly lifted a book with his mind, lifting it, spinning it, making it glow, making a ring of fire dance around it and not burning a page.

"Sir, I must insist- my shaping skills are perfect. Go for something a little harder."

He dodged levitated marbles, sorted them by mana. He created a watch from raw metal, and broke it apart again. He created complex geometric shapes with marbles, fused them.

He was told to levitate water, to freeze it solid, to make a perfect cube out of ice and then quickly cut it in half without shattering it, to reshape a coin, to burn images into wooden panels, to make a coin spin, to shape candlewax, to hold his hand over a candle flame without getting burnt, to make dice fall on one specific side Xvim called out, to repair a damaged watch, to wilt a flower, to teleport a snail.

This time, he made sure to do each perfectly, slowly and carefully, hiding the tells Xvim had mentioned back in the time loop, avoiding anticipating Xvim, pushing him for harder and harder exercises.

As he made a complex set of geometric sigils float, burning fire in the air shaping it out, he asked a question.

"I know why we are doing this- flawless geometric shapes hold mana better, and this is good practise for complicated spells, where careful construction of shapes is key. But do you know why geometric shapes work better? From my experience, while the academy syllabus has excellent adequacy in promoting the growth of students with perfect shaping skills, it lacks such theoretical teachings."

He had read a lot of books and talked to a lot of experts, but this had never been covered. If he was going to spend however many minutes persuading Xvim to help, he might as well learn something new. Plus it was funny pissing off Xvim after so many restarts trying to prove himself.

Xvim was looking increasing worried, frowning with each new shaping exercise.

Xvim spoke, giving in. "Everything is mana. The world. Your life force. The soul. Even divine magic. One of the reasons the Gods could do feats we humans couldn't is because their mana is twisted in on itself. Twisted into complicated shapes at a finer level than we can control so that they can do effects beyond modern magic. Creating mana. Forging souls. Storing mana. Spells of such greatness and strength they can destroy cities. Theoretically, if one could master shaping to a great enough degree, all of those feats could be replicated. Even at a lower level though, forcing mana into distinct shapes can greatly enhance spells far beyond their normal levels."

Zorian did a particularly complex shaping exercise involving a rotating and glowing sequence of marbles.

"How are you… this good? Your skills are perfect. I can't see a single missed boundary, your control is incredible, this is impossible."

Zorian shrugged. "You know. I eat well at breakfast, try to get out a lot, exercise regularly. But really, I have to attribute most of my success to the Cyoria academy's excellent teaching."

Xvim glared at him, lips thin, annoyed. Xvim had spent a lot of restarts critiquing the quality of teaching at Cyoria in regards to shaping. Vengeance was sweet.

"Come with me." Promised Zorian. "And all will be explained. Although if you do know the answer to my question..." This was really his big pull. Xvim always needed time to verify things, if he told him too much. He had to feed him just enough information to intrigue him, but not enough to make him hole up for a day casting divination spells to check he wasn't in some magically induced trance.

"So, are you in?"

* * *

Reviews, favourites, and follows appreciated. Next chapter we shall be into deep secrets and mysteries again, as Zorian seeks to regain his abilities before Red Robe does horrible things to him.


	3. The Scramble

We never got to see him using all those tricks and secrets people taught him to quickly rally his allies because he got that temp marker. This here, and more.

* * *

"I knew the academy couldn't teach you that well" Said Xvim, looking smug again. "Rather than working hard at improving your skill, you ran to the angels to get a magical cheat power. The lengths students will go nowadays to avoid working surprises even me."

Xvim and Alanic stood together, one an average height man of dark hair, another a short bald monk, conversing and swapping stories of his strange nature. Alanic had brought a pair of bulky muscled men, no doubt some church mages, along with Lukav. They'd cast soul shielding spells on everyone, along with several privacy spells to ensure that no one would see them as they spied from behind a hedge.

Taiven and several students she had called up stood lounging by a wall, staring at the ostentatious walls of the mansion. She was tapping her foot. She looked nervous.

This was what he had. Not enough people, but it was all he could summon up on short notice.

His plan was coming together. He needed Xvim. The loss of his spells meant he couldn't crack wards, and the Noveda mansion had a fierce ward. He knew enough details to guide Xvim, and Xvim's could fight amazingly as well.

Alanic was needed for soul magic and deadly fire magic. No doubt several magical cultists would be there, and without him they wouldn't stand much chance. Actual experienced mages with huge mana reserves helped a lot as well, and Zorian had no time to recruit mercenaries.

Taiven and her friends could take out weaker mages, and Taiven had a special purpose beyond that. He could have tried to tell teachers, tell others, but he knew from long experience that that took days.

Zorian polished his gun, using his shaping alteration skills to subtly alter it, adding a magical grenade launcher. Subtle magic flowed through it as he restored it from being a simple gun to the powerful weapon that he had made through the time loop. Most of his spell formulas and golem modifications had been erased, but he had enough skill to adapt something good on the fly.

He stood before the group, and started to speak, when a flash came from the mansion, a burst of powerful magic that he could feel.

"Necromancy" Said Alanic, a frown on his face. "I can feel the tug of it. Someone just died. We need to head in."

Xvim spoke up. "This is no place for children. I will teleport back and get other teachers."

Zorian stepped forward. " " He said quickly. "The angels told me that was of importance to you, a proof that I am truly unique?" That was the code that Xvim had given him to verify time travel. From the look on his face, he was pretty shocked to hear it. "How did you-" Zorian cut him off. "Angels" Xvim shook his head and Zorian continued. "You must trust me. The Angels have given me a very precise order of commands to save Cyoria and we children are vital."

Taiven spoke up. "If Roach can do this, I can."

Zorian gestured at her.

"See? We're good."

Xvim frowned, and then shook his head.

"I don't trust angels. I have heard enough stories of them directing poor fools into impossible battles."

Alanic waved his hand, indicating it was so so. "They don't have our best interests at heart always- but they're not cruel. There's always a good purpose in their actions, one that benefits the world. They don't coddle people, but they don't send people into a fight they can't win. They have excellent powers of prophesy."

Xvim shook his head again, muttering.

Zorian spoke again.

"The key thing first is getting inside the wards."

Xvim waved his hand dismissively. "The wards were sloppily made and cheaply maintained. I will have questions later as to why they went with the lowest bidding contractor. If I had an hour I could walk us in, and even now I can break us in with a microgate."

Zorian nodded. "We have a brief window. They don't have enough souls with soul sight since you Alanic and you Lukav survived, and I doubt any here other than Red Robe" The evil necromancer time looper. "Can teleport to new soul sight people. He will likely send some of his simulcrums away to gather more souls soon. He can't afford to drain that much mana fighting, so he'll need to send them out with mages."

As Zorian said this, two men in Red Robes and four cultists walked out of the mansion, all of them splattered in blood. Zorian quickly suppressed a smug look. Taiven looked sickened, and Alanic looked very angry. They weren't quite as used to death as him. Alanic stepped forward, as though to attack, and Zorian quickly went and grabbed his arm.

"Not now." He whispered. "They're extremely skilled mages. They'd survive, and finish the ritual."

Alanic nodded slowly. "I will remember their faces for later." Reluctantly, he stepped back.

Once the two groups were outside the teleport wards where they could teleport cheaply and not drain mana from the ritual, the two simulcrums and their mage allies teleported away.

Zorian finished his modifications of his rifle, and loaded the special grenade round. "Now."

Xvim spoke. "It's done."

The group charged forward, the wards ignoring them as the ward breaking bubble Xvim had gated in expanded to let them through.

Zorian and Taiven diverted away from the rest going in through a side door, one for servants. The door was locked but Zorian touched it and it quickly unlocked it by manually manipulating the tumblers inside. There was a spell to prevent locking spells, but they weren't made to handle raw shaping.

"You have to hook me up with an angelic contract, I want to do that too." Taiven looked greedy for his power.

Zorian shook his head. "I could do that before I got upgraded."

Taiven glanced at him. "There's a lot I don't know about you."

A sudden shake rippled through the house. The cabinet he was next to ripped open, spewing out forks and knives all over the wooden floor. Zorian righted himself and moved on. The fight had begun.

"I promise I'll tell you later. Got an evil necromancer to stop now." They headed onwards, grabbing at expensive furniture which Zorian recognized as from far off lands with magical woods while explosions and blasts of magic rippled through the house. They had an ambush to plan.

They arrived at an ornate door. Zorian could see an alarm spell on the door. It was a good, solid spell, hastily thrown up. He grabbed the spell, and twisted it with his raw shaping skills to continually send happy signals back through.

He looked back at Taiven. "Trust me, I've got this handled. When I say your name come through, and not till then."

"Sure, Roach? You're got basically no mana."

Zorian nodded. "I'm sure. Stay hidden." She stepped behind the door, sighing, and waited.

Zach was floating inside, unconscious, trails of mana holding him. An incredibly complicated set of geometric figures floated around him, eyes and lines and circles and semicircles, orbiting his body. All together it made a massive spherical shape, each side hexagonal, lines connecting many of the corners. At the centre of each of the 32 faces floated the soul of someone with soul sight. 30 of them had been filled already.

Red Robes stood at the centre of it, chanting, casting the complicated ritual spell. Tendrils of magic as thick as his thumb flew out, adding to the lines and the spell structure. It was a pretty shoddily done job. It was all shiny and pretty, but that was because the spell boundaries on the spell were loose and thick. He could have done a far better job.

They were in the Noveda family ritual room, there for spells. There were desks filled with spell components, training dummies, draws of spell items, and a lot of very ornate and not useful things all around.

Zorian spread his feet to better take the kickback, pulled the rifle up to his shoulder, one hand resting on the trigger another on the stock. Pressing his cheek to the rifle to get a better angle, he breathed out, and fired.

The bullet exploded out making his ear ring. Before he could see what had happened he quickly pulled the slide bolt to eject the spent casing, let the gun come down and fired again. The gun felt hot enough to scorch his hand now. He gently moved his mana through it, directing the heat away. He let the butt nestle against his shoulder again, pulled the slide bolt, and fired a third shot.

This was the first of his surprises. Red Robe had a specialized anti bullet shield, specialized to stop bullets. The problem with specialized shields was they were terrible at blocking anything outside what they were designed to block. He had etched a very small dispelling spell on the bullets, giving them enough of a kick to shatter the shield.

He channelled away the heat, pulled the slide bolt back again, ejecting another casing, and fired again. His finger stung and burnt from the rapid pulls. Every time he started again he had this issue, since the time loop removed any calluses or toughness. His baby soft hands were not used to the roughness of a gun.

He kept firing. Five bullets ripped through Jornak. He didn't seem especially hurt. No doubt he had some necromantic blood magic of inhuman toughness. He was more shocked.

"You shot me, again!" With a casual gesture, not even stopping the ritual, he tossed the gun out of Zorian's hand. Then he flung his hand at Zorian- actually ripping it away from his own body- his hand growing and twisting to be the size of a large dog, pinning him down to the floor. Wet fangs dripped above his head.

That looked like what the Primordial could do. Fluid shapeshifting.

"This bargain isn't going to end out well for you." Zorian said. The creature above him, that looked like a twisted hybrid of a dog, an insect, and fungi, pinned him down easily. It's breath smelled of decay and death.

"Necessity drives a hard bargain. I didn't know who the gods would send. Panaxeth said that the Lich might be coming, or Zach. I am glad it was you. I'll get to kill you properly. You and the two soul mages you brought with you."

Red Robe then shuddered, and coughed up blood. Zorian grinned.

The monster on top of him pressed Zorian down, making his bones creak like they were about to break, and cracking several ribs. "What did you do to me?"

His second surprise. He had seen that Red Robe wasn't that concerned about being shot. He suspected some blood magic that let him anchor his soul to his body better, so physical damage didn't matter. If he really wanted to he could have shielded himself better, but why bother when he was facing Zorian, with just a gun and a few spells?

That had been an idiot attitude before in him, and was idiotic now. Zorian had loaded up the bullets with a very potent poison he had stolen to add some extra kick.

"Do you really think I'll tell you? Your ritual will fail. You are going to die."

Red Robe shook his head. "No. I can sense you have lost much of your mental power. I'll rip it out of you."

Red Robe's mind lashed out at his, crude mind magic crushing his mental defences. Since he had arrived Zorian had been frantically practising his mind magic with every moment he had. There was only so much he could do though. Mind magic, like any magic, took time as your soul learned how to manipulate it's subtle powers. He had no hope of defeating Red Robe in a mental duel.

Not unless Red Robe entered his mind. He felt a painful sensation of agony as the power forced it's way into him, tearing out memories of the poison. Zorian shouted out "No!" as he clamped down his years of practise fighting hostile mind monsters and assaults with his raw shaping skills, filling the attack with static.

He wouldn't have had a chance of distracting Red Robe at his peak. Red Robe was distracted doing a ritual though, and was poisoned, and had a sudden mental assault to handle. It was enough of a distraction for his third surprise, that he had just summoned.

Taiven stepped out from behind the door, aimed her spell rod, and pushed a lot of her mana into it.

Zorian currently had 8 units of mana. At his peak he had around 40, after years in the time loop. Taiven had more like 60. It was a crude spell, quickly designed to stabilize a single massive dispelling beam. Red Robe should have seen it, but before he had evaded Red Robe with a simple soul shielding spell. Red Robe was terrible at divination, and hadn't noticed her. Red Robe's quickly thrown up shields and defences evaporated.

Zorian then shoved almost all of his remaining mana into a powerful mental blast. It was much cruder than anything he had done before, cruder than what a child Aranea could do. More like static than an actual attack. But it distracted Red Robe for a moment, as he levitated his gun up and fired the under barrel grenade launcher at Red Robe.

His fourth surprise. Soul magic was slow, hard to cast in battle. Alanic had agreed, after some persuasion about the will of the angels, to cast this for him.

As the grenade hit Red Robe the stored spell within erupted. A giant flaming scorpion emerged, grand and powerful, and stabbed it's flaming tail into Red Robe. The flames passed through him, striking straight at his soul rending apart the life force surrounding it.

Red Robe dropped to the ground, as did Zach, with a meaty thud. The hand dog monster on him reverted to being a normal human hand. The elaborate spellwork around him started to fray and collapse.

Red Robe spoke. "Next time." And touched some spell item. He teleported away.

Zorian looked up to Taiven. "Get this thing off me. I need to stabilize the ritual." She yanked the creature off him. It twitched. He glanced at it, and shook his head.

"We need to get out of here." Said Taiven.

He shook his head.

"There's too much mana in that spell. There's enough here to blow up the mansion, and everything around it.

He pointed at a corner of the spell, where positive feedback was causing self destructive bubbles to wash through the spell.

"Dispel that with the rod." He ordered her. She looked at him funny, and then that face of the spell exploded. A crimson light filled the room, and Zorian could feel his flesh burning. "Quickly!" He shouted at her.

She dispelled the corner. It collapsed, safely. Zorian used his mana sight and years of experience and pointed out another corner, and a face, and a faulty line. The captured souls were safely released from their containers, and the spell energy vented away from them. She cast ray after ray of dispelling hit, knocking out each target.

"We're almost there" Promised Zorian. "I'm out of mana-" Taiven said, gasping. She looked at him, a pleading, fearful look in her eyes. Zorian spoke. "You need to keep dispelling. Use ambient mana." Taiven drew on the toxic ambient mana around them. Immediately, lines of corruption spread through her face as The Dragon Below's Mana tried to kill her. She stabilized it, showing that she had some experience doing this, and cast another dispel.

It was a close thing. Taiven was close to collapse by the time the ritual was collapsed. But she stopped it. All the remaining mana was vented into the wards. The Noveda family wards collapsed around them.

Too long after that, Xvim, Lukav and Alanic arrived to meet up with them, Lukav in the form of an injured giant lizard. They had faced fierce resistance from the cultists within, and a pair of Simulacrums that had sought to capture them. Their focus on taking them out non lethally had likely saved them from being killed despite the simulacrum's incredible magical prowess and strength. They had to throw out all their most powerful spells to survive, and it had still been a close thing, till the simulacrums had collapsed. They'd then fought through the cultists. The two church men were injured- the simulacrum had some sort of transforming power like this one had, tossing shapeshifting limbs to poison and strangle people.

He managed to convince Alanic to claim it as a church operation, told him to give Zach soul restoring potions, and got Xvim to teleport him and Taiven and her friends away. He swore Taiven and her friends to silence in return for a heavy bribe.

He had other things he needed to do. Red Robe's powers had advanced and while there was going to be a political storm he needed every moment he had to prepare for the next fight. He would have been out of it for at least six months after that much soul damage but with whatever enhancements the primordial had given Red Robe, he couldn't be sure how long he would be-

_Two months. You did a number on him, but he has extremely good regeneration and can drain others of their souls to restore his own. _Spoke a voice in his head.

"Lopova?" He said.

Xvim looked at him. "The goddess of thieves?"

He looked at Xvim. He tried to speak and make some hasty excuse, but he found he couldn't speak. Xvim had a blank look on his face.

_I'm no construct. My main self replicated her divine soul and sent me with you. You didn't think that after all those promises she would just send you off alone? No, I am here to make sure you live up to your promise. I know of course you would never ever think of simply stringing a god along with promises in the hopes that she would help you more. But, here I am to help. You lucky dog you. That said, I am not actually supposed to be here. No telling others till you have divine shielding or you get to the middle layers of the dungeon. I wiped his memory of the last 30 seconds and froze his perception, but I can't do that too often. _

Xvim was an archmage, and had a very powerful, and disciplined mind. Even when Zorian had very powerful mind magic he couldn't just wipe his memories like that. He could never have done this. And she had just done it casually. That was bullshit.

_I am a god. We are bullshit. I need to stay secret though, so no saying my name to random strangers. Xvim's mind is impressive though. I need to do a bunch of perceptual filters on his senses because he knows exactly where the ambient mana is in the room and dust particles and his mana levels, which have gone up slightly while I'm dazing him, and he is doing a weird dimensional magic that lets him know the time. Don't make me do this too often or he might figure something out. Lopova out._

Xvim's eyes stopped glazing over. He had a slightly confused look, as though he sensed something was off. Zorian quickly tried to distract him.

"The first step of the angelic plan is complete. Thank you for your aid. I can reveal more. The Mage Guild is secretly infested by an evil cult, the Dragon Below, which is working with foreigners from Ulquaan Ibasa to release a primordial at the end of this month. The dimensional alignment allows them to open his tomb, ending the world. This defeat should notably weaken them, but the fight is not over. I need you to help me. First, could you see if you can locate Red Robe from his hand with tracking spells?"

Xvim nodded. "Did the angel give you verifiable proof of this?" Zorian nodded, and began listing off members of the cult, locations where they had documents proving this, the location of the secret underground base.

"I understand that you need time to verify this. I need something from you though, while you check this out." He was on a two month timeline, and needed every moment he could get. That meant not mentioning the time loop or revealing he lied while Red Robe healed in some far off location.

"I need to do things. I need you to show me how to cast an invisibility spell, a mental shield spell, a mental shield ward, magic missile, fireball and a tracking spell that can find monsters with their body parts."

"Are you turning to crime?" Xvim asked bluntly.

"It's the end of the world. Of course I am turning to crime."

Xvim shook his head. "Going for the quick route for shaping, and the easy route for solving problems. Modern students."

Zorian spread his arms wide. "If it works, it works.

He got the spells, and Xvim did the ritual tracking spell. No luck, Red Robe must be behind anti divination wards. After that he excused himself and went to Taiven. She was quite pumped. She'd just become involved in something massive. She was also angry, and repeatedly hit him when he couldn't give her a way to get her own shaping skills. He got a promise from her to show him some of her spells later in return for a duel. She probably wanted to pound something to dust.

With the spells, he turned to a life of crime. He had no doubt that killing a lot of important members of the Mage Guild had kicked up the hive. Red Robe had pressed people quickly into service, and they'd died. The sudden vanishing of a host of church officials who had soul sight had likewise caused chaos. Things were happening, but so long as Alanic took the credit he wouldn't be blamed for them.

He robbed several stores for spell item components and alchemy components. He raided more of the invader's caches for money. He stole a high ranked library card to get him into the deeper areas of the library where there were more spells.

He tried to question his errant goddess again, but she remained silent. Of course, he would never seek to screw her over, ever, he told himself, but couldn't they value freedom? He didn't want her here, but she could at least talk to him more.

After preparing a ward and several spell items for his own protection he visited the Aranea below, and in return for an immense bribe and a promise of aid in murdering the Cranium rats managed to secure a teacher for his mind arts.

He fell into a familiar routine. He skipped classes, learned spells, went to practise sessions. He had several talks with Alanic and Xvim about the cultists. He had indeed stirred the city into fierce activity, and all sorts of important people were being questioned. Abducting a noble heir and killing hosts of members of the church was a step too far. He directed them to hurt them and keep them off balance as best he could to prevent Red Robe from organizing any effort against Zach.

He managed to take out some himself, with invisibility and his own combat experience too much for the slower ones, and practised his still extremely crude mind arts, driving them insane as he ripped memories out of their minds.

After losing a duel to Taiven since she had vastly more mana than him he hunted down the remaining cranium rats with her so the invaders would not have any spies within the city. She taught him a variety of wards, utility spells, attack spells, and he advanced quickly in skill.

At nights he delved into the libraries, restoring his lost magical knowledge step by step, spell by spell. His soul started to fill in the gaps the Dragon Below had torn from it, spell knowledge filling in. He learned the basics of soul protection and detection rituals from Alanic again, all the while having detailed and in depth discussions on theology that he had taught him, learned a number of powerful fire spells.

He worked with Edwin and what remained of his burnt and erased memory of golems to forge new golems to fight for him. He prepared dozens of new spell formulas to replace the ones erased.

He managed to convince Xvim to help him break into the Black Room, making the documents needed and procuring potions from Lukav to transform his own form. He spent a month in there with Xvim swapping barbs, learning spells, and practising his mind magic. He also had a long discussion with Xvim about Zach.

It was just two months. But, it was two months of very dedicated practise. Without his shaping skills he would have had no chance against a well prepared Red Robe. With them, maybe he would have a chance. He needed an edge though. Something that would utterly counter Red Robe's might.

That meant he needed to unlock Zach's hidden knowledge of how to collect the five imperial treasures. The triggering condition for that was stopping the invasion without anyone knowing of his identity as a time looper.

Red Robe was out of action. Zorian had a rare opportunity. He could gain the secrets of the angels that were meant to allow Zach to easily collect all five divine artifacts.

He got his chance near the end of the month. Zorian had been bribing Benisek to keep him up to date on class events while he had just done the bare minimum to keep access to the library. Benisek told him that Zach had staggered into class, looking very much worse for wear.

So, Zorian headed to meet up with Zach, in an alchemy class. Zach was arguing, successfully, with his teacher about obscure facts of alchemy and how to prepare potions. He patiently waited till the end of class.

Once they were outside, Zorian enacted his plan to fool the angelic contract. Zorian was chatting happily with Raynie.

Zorian grabbed Zach by his arm. Zach immediately started protesting, but Zorian ignored him.

"I'm stealing Zach, sorry."

Raynie asked.

"Why?"

Zorian shrugged.

"Time magic stuff. He told you about it right?"

She looked annoyed. "He did keep insisting he was a time traveller. Private prank?"

Zorian nodded. "Yes. Zach is such a player. See you." And he dragged Zach away

Zach spoke. "You know about-" Zorian shook his hand. "Don't say it. I've got an angelic contract like you. If you tell me about the time loop, you have to kill me. There are several of us loopers across different worlds, each seeking to find our way. I finished my loop and got dunked into yours. Talking about parallel worlds is fine though." Since that wasn't actually how the time loop worked. He had done his best to say nothing that was a lie.

Zach cheered, and hugged him. "Yes, finally. I knew we were going from parallel world to parallel world. Do you know who else can do that?"

Zorian grinned at him. "I promise to tell you everything at the end of the month. Is that ok?"

Zach shook his head. "I've used that line enough times I deserved it. Still though-"

"I can kill Red Robe.

Zach paused for a few seconds and spoke again.

"You can?"

Zorian took out Red Robe's hand from a hidden, cooled pocket.

"Yes he is. I led a raid on the ritual he was using to slay you. His name was Jornak. He was a lawyer, and a member of the cult. I damaged his shaping severely with soul magic, and I know where he wakes up in the loop."

"We can kill him! Finally. I am so up for this." Zach said, pumping his fist. "I can tell there's a catch. What do you need?

"I can't guarantee he'll stay dead. I can kill him, but the only way to do it is invasive mind magic.

Zach shook his head. "I'm not letting anyone in my mind. Never, not gonna happen again."

The angelic contract was speaking again. "I know, Zach. I have to do it. That means from you I need every bit of help you can get me. I need two weeks more of time from black rooms. I need you to help me practice combat magic. I have already had the spell cast on me which lets me do this. I need you to give me my all for this."

Zach looked at him, worried. "What did you do?"

Zorian spoke. "I got Xvim to cast a mind magic spell on me that will force me to wake up as soon as the loop begins. It will wake me up while they're all sleeping, I can get you, and together we are going to teleport straight to Red Robe, and kill him."

* * *

I wondered why Zorian never got this. It seems to me like waking up earlier could offer a whole host of nice opportunities. Now we shall see, does Red Robes have Red PJs as well.


	4. Divine bonding

Hi Flamesparks7, thanks for the review. Zorian has been doing a lot recently, so I felt he deserved a downtime chapter to plan and relax and collapse again. What we know from canon about gods. 1. They were whimsical. 2. They randomly did plagues against people. 3. They didn't like necromancy much. 4. They were erratic. 5. They were immensely powerful, able to create things, destroy cities, grant random magical powers, and do feats that the limits of mortal magic could emulate. Part of this story will be exploring why I imagine this might be so, along with explaining some of the more insane powers of the gods and why they can't just win everything.

Lopova is very emotionally erratic, has odd priorities, and is very whimsical and so fits the characterization of the gods. There are also reasons she is intervening, unlike in the canon story- things that weren't supposed to happen did happen. Red Robe did something different he didn't do before.

* * *

The problem with the invasion of Cyoria that happened every month was that it was too good.

Quatach-Ichl was probably the most powerful mage on the planet, by a large margin. He had immense combat skill, counters for everything, and his speed was just so insane that he could remove any serious threats to the invasion.

There were a lot of skilled and powerful mages and necromancers from Ulquaan Ubasa, and a lot of bound monsters, trolls, and allies. Even if they inflicted some losses they had enough numbers to stop all but a concerted invasion.

If that wasn't enough, Sudomir had a vast army of undead and iron beaks to add to the forces, providing a huge amount of muscle that was locked behind powerful wards.

Of course, such a vast force would attract attention, except for the fact that the Mage Guild was covering for them. The powerful group of mages meant to be looking out for Cyoria were in fact preparing a ritual to unleash a primordial so they could be young and have larger dicks.

Zorian tipped his cocktail to Zach, who was getting roaring drunk with Raynie and Neolu and showing off some elaborate illusion, who tipped his drink back, spilling some on the floor.

He was sitting the corner, away from the party. Zach hadn't needed much convincing to teleport most of the class away from Cyoria to Eldemar for a wild party. Bribes and forged documents were enough to get them out of the dance, and out of the invasion.

Zorian wasn't sure he could take seeing it again. His hand shook.

The gods were real. One was in his soul. He was back in the loop. He had died. He had exploded his soul, killed himself in a way that he thought would be forever and then been yanked back to life.

_Life isn't fair. _

Spoke the voice in his head. He thought back at her.

Can't you solve this? You're powerful. You're around. You could kill Red Robe. You don't even have to do that. Tell me where he is, we can kill him. We can end this.

_It's not that simple. _

Then make it simple, he thought back, sharper than he should be against a goddess.

_Gods can die. Some of us did die before we left. Trust me, if I did help you more it would be worse for everyone. There are contingencies built into the world, and they can detect __me._

Plagues, fire, and toads everywhere?

_Basically. Whole lot of trouble._

Zorian sighed, and swirled his glass.

Benisek was coming up to him. He didn't want to talk. He touched a spell item ring he had made, and channelled mana through it. He quickly teleported behind a large red potted plant on the other side of the hotel floor, and then touched a second ring, activating invisibility.

No one could bother him now.

Then he went back to thinking at the goddess. I just don't know if I can beat him. I killed him, and it wasn't enough. He's stronger than me. His primordial blessings don't have to be hidden, unlike you. I want this to work, but I am not sure we're good enough. I'm trapped. My soul enslaved to live and die again forever, to bash itself in against an unstoppable force till they end even that. I don't know If I can do it.

There was a long pause from the goddess. He could feel her, still in his thoughts.

Then in front of him- in his mind, he knew- appeared a woman. The sort of woman you shouldn't get near. She was beautiful, very beautiful, but beautiful like a tornado. The sort of thing you didn't want to see close up. She had a softness in her eyes now for now though, and red eyes, from crying.

She stepped close and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He could feel her short black hair on his shoulder, the scars on her face against his skin.

"I won't let them destroy your soul. I won't let the primordials destroy you. Even if I have to burn down this world, I won't let them." She said with a surety and purpose that was as hard as her.

He steadied his breathing, and relaxed against the illusionary body of the goddess for a few minutes till he felt normal again.

"I don't know why I am like this. I was stronger."

She smiled at him. "You are stronger. You spent months blocking off your emotions with mind magic, and you had some of Zach's soul in you, which changed you. When I restored you I restored you without his soul fragment. You're back to normal. It'll just take time to adjust."

That explained a lot. His personality did feel different. Damien had said that he seemed less whiny. His asshole brother. He shook his head.

"You're a lot nicer now than before. No surprise pranks."

She pfft'd at him. "Dude, I can read the room. I don't prank people just because I can. I prank people when it's funny. Necromancy isn't a joking topic, it's an abomination we oppose."

"Necromancers can make great friends you know." Her eyes narrowed, and he could feel the deadly steel as she gripped his arms tightly.

"What?" She said, one word carrying the weight of power of a being who could destroy worlds.

"They're great at raising people's spirits."

She stared at him for a long time, then grinned and laughed. "That was terrible." She shook her head, and went to sit on his knee. Forward, but he was used to his pervy goddess. He ignored it, and tried to talk of more important things.

"Do you think we can kill him next restart? With my mind magic?"

Little cartoon illusions floated in his vision.

"Red Robe has several enhancements, including one of regeneration and magic resistance. He's been made into a poison type monster, with about three times as much mana-"

Zorian cut her off.

"About?"

She waved her hands. "3.14 times more mana. The maximum you can do without altering the soul more radically." The ratio of the circumference of a circle to it's diameter. Very geometric.

She continued. "Like many magical monsters you've met, he'll be much more difficult to hurt with mind magic. Zach's potent combat skills will help disrupt these, but I doubt you'll be able to do major damage, and he'll quickly adapt to any poison you use on him. Your fire magic will help- he's weak to fire spells and can be destroyed. His soul has various contingencies on it to make it hard to use soul magic on it- they were not expecting a soul magic grenade, but they'll be more sensitive now. You'd do better to focus on stealing a memory. He must have some grand evil plan."

He looked up at her.

"Why can you use magic on me? To make this illusion, to speak on me."

She spoke, not phased by the sudden change of topic.

"When this world is collapsed all souls are collected and reverted to an earlier state. This means that the systems that manage this world can collect all the memories of each person. Gods, primordials and other divine beings can query these memories and search for things like a random goddess invading a place she shouldn't be in."

He looked at her.

"So, that means they wouldn't be checking the soul of someone with a cracked temporary marker, would they?"

She blinked, thoughtful, smiled, and then straddled him, hands on his shoulders, eyes wide, grin heavy. She was very forward. "No, no they wouldn't. Poor Red Robe. We're gonna wreck him."

* * *

Next chapter- murder is attempted, and Zorian and Zach fight the invasion of Cyoria. Reviews, favorites, and follows appreciated.


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